


Unprofessional

by Ginger_Ninja_405



Category: Harry Hole Series - Jo Nesbø, The Snowman (2017)
Genre: Angst, Awkwardness, Based on Michael Fassbender' preformance - I haven't read the books, F/M, Fluff, Romance, Storm-induced power outages, happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-28 22:06:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18765199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ginger_Ninja_405/pseuds/Ginger_Ninja_405
Summary: While on duty and serving as 24 hour protection for a young woman in danger from a criminal element, Detective Harry Hole finds it increasingly difficult to hold back his attraction, and the close quarters together in a hotel room with the power out from a storm isn't exactly helping.





	Unprofessional

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a request from my tumblr account. I know that The Snowman wasn't the greatest film in Fassy's history, but Harry Hole still deserves love, and fandom. Thank you for giving this a chance and taking the time to read it, the staggeringly low amount of Harry Hole fanfiction available is unsettling :(

Harry breathed out a sigh as he reached into his coat pocket to extract a much-needed cigarette, but he hesitated, glancing back at the young woman across the room, and abandoned the packet of tobacco again in its fabric home. She hated the smell of smoke, and she was already being subjected to 24 hour protection through no fault of her own. The least he could do was keep her comfortable.

The investigation had been going on for months, and due to desperation to keep her safe, he had been assigned what he first felt was something close to baby-sitting duty, acting as her full-time security detail. The more time he spent at her side, however, the more he did not want to leave it. The detective's eyes moved across the room to the minibar, stocked to the brim with alcohol. If he was going to get through another night without speaking his mind and expressing the desired that bubbled just under the surface, he was going to need a drink. With another quick glance at her, he strode across the room, pausing as he reached the frigid appliance. “Do you want anything?” he asked, casually as possible, and she looked up to meet his gaze, shaking her head quickly. “Do you mind if I...” he continued, opening the little door and gesturing to a glass bottle of clear liquor.

“No, it's...go ahead,” she finally managed, a soft smile forming across her softer lips, her eyes finding somewhere else to focus on.

“I realize how unprofessional this is,” the detective answered as he broke the seal on the bottle and took a swig of the clear liquid.

“It's alright,” came her gentle voice again, and he leaned against the wall to observe her. “This whole situation has interrupted my life as much as it has yours.” She paused to watch him take another swallow from the miniature bottle, “I can't exactly fault you for needing some normalcy.”

_Or liquid courage_ , he thought to himself before finding her eyes again. “What would you be doing right now, if...” he faltered. Had he really been about to ask her  _if you weren't with me_ ? “If you weren't...in this situation? If none of this had happened?”

She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, leaning her head back against the overfilled cushioning of the couch she'd nestled herself into. “I don't know. Probably about the same thing I'm doing now,” she held up a book as she spoke, one that she had barely read 10 pages of since she'd picked it up. With the handsome detective here, so close and in such a confined, private space, it was difficult to concentrate on anything else. “You?”

Harry held up the little bottle of alcohol and gave it a slight shake, “Drinking too much of this.”

“At least your honest,” she replied, watching as he returned the glass container to his lips again. He gave only a grunt in response.

* * *

Another hour passed with very little conversation, the two of them trying to act as naturally as possible, both failing miserably. It wasn't like the detective to be so apprehensive in approaching women he felt attraction toward, but considering it was literally his job to make sure nothing happened to her, he was left with a feeling of internal conflict.

Lightning lit up the night beyond the glass doors that led out to the makeshift balcony, a loud crack of thunder answering a few seconds later. Water splattered harshly against the clear barrier, the young woman standing with a hand against the cold, transparent surface, watching the sky. Harry had taken her space on the couch, beside a few more petite bottles that had escaped the minibar and given up their contents to his needs. The detective's eyes had not left her since they'd switched places, and it wasn't until the lights in the room began to flicker that he was finally pulled out of his trance-like state. After a few weak attempts of the electricity to stay in service, the entire room finally went dark.

“Wonderful,” came Harry's voice from his seat on the couch, and the young woman at the window turned around to face him, leaning back against the glass.

“You don't suppose there are any candles, for emergencies?”

Harry gave a shrug of his shoulders, but realized she probably couldn't see him all that well, and stood instead, reaching a hand in his pocket to provide some light with the screen of his phone, “Let's have a look.” The detective began to open up drawers where ever he found them, finding nothing helpful, and eventually made his way to the closet, the young woman standing close behind. He fumbled around on the shelf and finally smiled in the dark as his hand gripped something heavy and encased in glass. “Success,” he announced as he turned around, finding her closer to himself than he'd realized. The candle nearly slipped out of his hand, and she reached out to catch it too, her soft fingers grasping at his rough hand.

“Sorry,” came a shy whisper, and he nearly found himself leaning down toward her face, but he paused, and stood up straight again, carefully dragging his hand away from hers.

“It's fine,” came his quick response, and when she took a few steps back, he reluctantly moved away from her as well, taking slow steps back toward the couch and setting the candle down on the table, quickly igniting the single wick with his lighter and falling back less than gracefully on the couch as the little flame brought a slight glow to its surroundings.

“How long do you think it will take to get the power back on?,” Harry heard her voice and a moment later felt the cushions of the sofa shift as she sat down on the opposite side.

_Not long enough,_ he thought, but gave another shrug of his shoulders in answer. He watched as she pulled her legs up on the couch, leaning back against the side and dragging her knees up toward her chest. “It could be a while,” he finally answered, and surprised her when he reached a hand toward her feet. “Might as well get comfortable,” he glanced toward her, and began to unlace her shoes, dragging one off and moving to the other. When he ran a finger experimentally along the bottom of one foot, he heard her squeal as she jerked it back away from his hands. He chuckled and responded with an apology. “I couldn't help it,” he mumbled with a smile that she had not seem much of. 

“Not very professional,” she answered in a soft voice, and was glad of the fact that the room was so dark. She knew she must be blushing from the warmth she could feel radiating from her cheeks.

“You make me want to be unprofessional,” he whispered to himself without thinking, and he felt the cushions shift more as she drew her legs closer to herself again. He didn't know what he could say to cover for himself, and she didn't respond, so he left it at that.

Several minutes passed awkwardly, and Harry finally took notice of how much cooler the room had become since the electricity had failed. His vision drifted toward his couch-mate, and he noticed in the pale light that he'd finally become accustomed to that she seemed to be feeling the effects of the cold as well. When he rose from his seat beside her, she said nothing, still internally contemplating all the possible meanings to the last words he'd said to her. She watched as he strode slowly toward the bed, curious of his intentions, but he surprised her as he dragged off the large and fluffy comforter, and walked back toward his end of the couch. Her brows knitted together in confusion when he sat facing her, parting his legs and letting one hang off the couch so his shoe met the floor, and he beckoned to her with his hand. “Come on, I know you're cold.”

She hesitated, her eyes moving up his legs, over his torso, finally to his face. She bit her own lip softly, and he beckoned to her again with his hand. “I won't bite,” he said with a sigh, and when a chill ran up her back – she told herself it was from the cold and not from the idea of his bite – she gave in and started to scoot toward him, turning her body so her back faced his chest. When she finally settled her body against his, he dragged the large blanket over both of their bodies and drew it up just past her shoulders.

Several more minutes passed as the two of them let their bodies settle more comfortably against each other, and Harry looked down toward her as she finally spoke up, “Do you often snuggle under blankets with citizens under your protection?”

When Harry remained silent for several seconds, she finally leaned her head to one side and up to meet his eyes, and the detective reached a hand up from under the blanket to cup her cheek. “What do you think?” came his whispered response. When she didn't answer, just continued to look into his pale eyes, he continued, “I'm not going to take back what I said. You do make me want to be...” he paused, his thumb finding her bottom lip and grazing over it, his skin calloused and rough against her softness.

“Unprofessional?” she whispered, finishing his thought, and he finally took the initiative, raising her chin and leaning down to claim her lips. Without another word, he felt her draw away just long enough to shift and turn her body, Harry gasping at the softness of her chest as it met the hard planes of his own. All sense of duty seemed to fall away as his hands swept over her body, finally making their way back up to gently cup her cheeks, dragging her into another kiss.

Lightning and thunder continued to attack the sky, rain and hail pelted harshly at the glass doors of the balcony, but neither the detective nor the young woman in his arms took notice of anything but each other.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read this! Kudos and especially comments are always appreciated 💙


End file.
